Rod Townsend records the gays in and around their natural environment of Fire Island and reports back. All dialogue 100% verbatim.

EXT. FIRE ISLAND PINES PAVILION NIGHTCLUB

The Saturday night/Sunday morning 3 a.m. new moon sky is extra dark, lit only with an abundance of stars. The only light comes from what is also the primary source of noise in the still night: Pavilion. Outside a variety of gays presides. Some sit at wire mesh tables, smoking and chatting. Others stand in groups while others walk seemingly aimless through the night.

A group of gays wearing assorted low-rise jeans and no shirts sit at a table barely touched by the outside lighting. All are in their early thirties. MARLBOROGAY and PARLIAMENTGAY glow in the dim light, their muscular bodies pink-tan and glistened with sweat. SMOKELESSGAY sits with them, with comparatively thin and pale.

MARLBOROGAY (Lighting a Marlboro Light) Do you want a cigarette?

SMOKELESSGAY
You know I don't smoke.

PARLIAMENTGAY
(Smoking a Parliament Light.) Sometimes you do. Last weekend. Posh.

SMOKELESSGAY
I smoke when I do coke because I get fidgety. Is JAMES still inside?

MARLBOROGAY
Yeah, he's dancing with that older guy. He totally loves those ... Look at that.

PARLIAMENTGAY looks toward the door of the nightclub where ADIDASGAY exits and jaunts past their table wearing tight silver Adidas sweatpants with red stripes. After passing the table he begins to walk quickly down the boardwalk.

ADIDASGAY (Yelling into the night.) José! ... José!

PARLIAMENTGAY
Wish my name was José. Damn!

MARLBOROGAY
You and your Latino obsession. Oooo. Oh! Some sweat just rolled down my back and somehow got into my asscrack. Nice.

SMOKELESSGAY
(Begins to stand up.) I'm going to go find JAMES.

PARLIAMENTGAY
Sit down and leave him alone. If he hooks up with that guy then I've got a room to myself tonight.

MARLBOROGAY
And if he brings him home, you're sleeping on the Aerobed, sweetie.

PARLIAMENTGAY
First of all, older guys are supposed to bring you home. They should be to the point where they either own a house or can at least afford a share where they aren't sharing a room, or a bed. And don't forget - Ozone. No one wants to walk to our fucking house. It's just too far. Oh. Look at that one.

PARLIAMENTGAY looks toward BACKPACKGAY, standing near the exterior stairs.

SMOKELESSGAY Latino. Probably 23 at most. And look - a backpack.

MARLBOROGAY
He's homeless, Jacob. Missed the last ferry. Probably on purpose. And thinks he can just find someone to spend the night with because he's semi-hot.

PARLIAMENTGAY
Semi? Look at that ...

MARLBOROGAY
No backpackers. No, no, no, no, no.

PARLIAMENTGAY
Are you sure JAMES is still in there? What if he already left with that guy?

MARLBOROGAY
You know he'll be in there until the very last song, making out on the dance-floor. He's probably in the middle of the floor groping that old daddy.

SMOKELESSGAY
He was at least 45. His chest hair was, like, grey. We should go in.

ADIDASGAY emerges from the darkness of the boardwalk and passes the table and jaunts back into the nightclub.

PARLIAMENTGAY Guess he didn't find José. Let's go in.

The three leave their table and enter Pavilion. Outside, BACKPACK gay begins making out with another gay, shirtless with low-rise jeans.

Previously: A Good Houseguest Brings "Stuff" For The Weekend